


The Tusk Love Literary Appreciation Society

by Girls-like-flowers (rem71090)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Despite what the title may imply it is not particularly cute, Everyone is in here but tagging them felt like a lie, Except periods, Gen, Honestly it's a bit like Sour Patch, If there is a form of punctuation the author abuses it, Screw periods, Starts sour ends sweet, There are some ships but you have to squint, There is some fantasy racism here, This is Jester-centric but narrated by Caleb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-25 01:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17715551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rem71090/pseuds/Girls-like-flowers
Summary: Jester and Caleb read romance novels together, but Jester is starting to have a few questions about the content of these books.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, thanks to MeMeMe for not letting me post paragraphs that are all one sentence filled with a hundred commas.
> 
> This story IS finished, and the second chapter will be up as soon as MeMeMe ("I have a LIFE") finishes telling me to add periods!
> 
> Find me on tumblr under the same name!

Fjord is there before Caleb even has time to process what was said. His falchion is out, and drops of water are sprayed across the face and red bandana of the man who had spoken.

“I don’t suppose you’d care to repeat that.” There is no question or quarter in his voice, and the man glances at the whole group beginning to get up from their table. His eyes linger on Caduceus and Nott before meeting Fjord’s again.

“I said that the devil-child should go back to the seven hells. Maybe she should take you with her.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” The falchion moves, just slightly, closer to the man’s neck.

“Maybe we’ll send you down first.” Beau’s grin is a feral thing. “Let them know we’re coming.” Caleb makes a note to explain how interplanar travel works to Beauregard the next time she feels bad about being an asshole and tries to make up for it by listening to him ramble.

By this time they are not the only people standing. The bartender, a burly human man whose arms are covered in scars, is scowling and holding a piece of what might once have been a chair leg. Other patrons, all, Caleb notices now, human, are gathering behind them.

Jester, meanwhile, has been fiddling with the hood of her cloak, eyes down. She’d gotten up when the rest of the table did, and is now wedged between Fjord’s back and Yasha’s front so tightly he would be surprised if she could even get the range of movement to look around Fjord. Still she reaches out and puts her hand on his back.

“It’s okay Fjord. Let’s not fight.” Her voice isn’t any smaller than he is used to, and she doesn’t sound sad, exactly, but there is something off that he can’t put his finger on. He knows she is thinking about the fact that earlier today Fjord had taken two arrows through a weak spot in his armor. Jester had knelt over him and prayed for almost ten minutes before he’d come back to consciousness. Everyone is tired and bruised, and Caleb isn’t sure he could summon up the energy for a Flaming Sphere (although he’d noticed earlier that this bar would catch on fire easily; Nott has some oil she’s squirreled away, there are plenty of candles, and a number of cloth hangings that might generously be called tapestries).

That’s why they’d come to the bar, because Fjord had almost died (again) and they were all ready to relax with a mug of ale (or, they were mostly all ready for that; Caduceus had been nursing the same mug all night, and Jester had nothing in front of her after she’d been told the bar didn’t have milk or pastries).

“We’re all friends here.” Caduceus's voice was soft and slow and it is only the fact that he has been traveling with them for months now that enables Caleb to hear the firmness beneath.

“You aren’t my friend.” The man’s face is contorted into a sneer as he looks up. “I don’t know what the hell you are, but you aren’t welcome here either.” He hasn’t so much as taken a step back from the man holding a blade to his throat, which is stupid, but the part of Caleb trained for war is impressed despite himself.

“Shut the fuck up, Jeff! You don’t have the right to kick people out of my bar,” the bartender snaps before turning to Fjord. “If you put that sword away, you can leave without any trouble.”

Fjord is obviously thinking about it, eyes tracking the number of people who have gotten up. They don’t appear to have any impressive weapons, but there are a lot of them. Honestly, Caleb likes their chances of winning a fight, but he isn’t sure they can do it without an unacceptable level of collateral damage. Just as he is seriously considering the best place to drop some oil and a candle (there are some wall hangings which would go up beautifully, but the bar seems to be unfinished wood and once that starts burning there is all of that alcohol to go right up), Fjord leans back, just a little, into Jester’s hand and the falchion vanishes back into Fjord’s personal pocket dimension.

“I thought orcs were supposed to be good for a fight,” Jeff sneers and the subtle sigh of relief Caleb had felt building freezes in his chest. Fjord doesn’t respond, though Beau lets out a growl.

“What part of shut the fuck up do you not understand? I will throw you out too,” the bartender threatens. He should do that anyway, Caleb thinks. It isn’t like they had gone around starting fights with strangers (uncharacteristic, sure, but true). It’s not like they were the ones using racial slurs.

“Fine. Whatever.” Jeff turns, and Caleb is the only one who sees a long-fingered green hand swipe his purse. Well, Caleb and maybe Caduceus, that firbolg sees everything.

Beau slaps coins on the table, exactly enough to pay for the drinks they’ve ordered, not a copper more. “Come on Jes, let's find someplace that makes those pastries you like.”

“Ooh! Do you think they have some with cinnamon?”

“We aren’t that far from Nicodranas, they might.” Beau slings her arm around Jester’s shoulders and steers her out of the bar, glaring at everyone they pass. The rest of the group follows closely behind.

“Um. Actually,” Jester draws out the word, “I’m not hungry, I just really wanted us to leave and I didn’t know if everyone would, or if we would all fight, and I don’t want to fight again tonight!” This she spits out in a single breath. “And besides all the pastries will be stale if we buy them now! We can go tomorrow morning, but now maybe we can go to sleep?”

“If that’s what you want.” Fjord is looking at Jester soft and indulgent, but his jaw is clenched so tightly there is a vein dancing below it.

“It is! I think I saw an inn when we came through!” Jester shrugs out from under Beau’s arm to grab Fjord’s hand and pull him to the front of the group! “You were so dashing! Just like Oskar defending Guinevere’s honor, but it’s okay! The Traveller and I can defend my honor, so you don’t need to get into fights when you’re tired!” Caleb has marveled before at her ability to fit a hundred words into a breath (it makes no sense how bad she is at holding her breath underwater because he has seen her talk non-stop for improbable amounts of time).

“Jes,” Fjord says, “no one should talk to you like that. No one should say those things about anyone. Of course I had to. We all did.” The look on Jester’s face when she looks at Fjord is so full of wonder that Caleb has to look away for a moment, for all that they are on a public street; the moment is too intimate for him to witness. He looks back when he hears Jester gasp.

“Fjord! You’re bleeding!” And, sure enough, his upper lip is bleeding where it looks like it had gotten trapped by his tusk while his jaw was clenched. “You should have said! I can heal, you know!”

Even as she admonishes him, she is tugging at his arm until he stops and leans down. “It’s fine, Jes, it just needs a good night’s sleep, and you just said you’re tired.” His protests don’t stop him from holding perfectly still as she traces the cut.

She ignores him, and stands on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. There is a brief spark of gold, and when she pulls away again the cut is gone. Fjord and Jester start walking again, this time staring straight ahead with copper and purple blushes across their faces.

“Do people say things like that often?”

“Oh no Yasha, don’t worry! Mama said some people don’t like tieflings, but they are stupid because I’m great! Don’t you think so?” In place of a verbal answer, Yasha puts her hand on Jester’s head. When she starts talking again, Jester’s voice is devoid of her typical humor. “This is the first time someone said something to me, actually.”

Which, when Caleb thinks about it, makes sense. She’s spent her life locked in a room, and been traveling with them for the rest of the time. For better or worse, they are an intimidating group.

“He was an asshole,” Nott offers, “but at least he’ll make up for it by paying for our rooms.” Jeff’s coin purse dangles from her hand.

“Nott!” Jester and Beau are thrilled, Caduceus a little shocked. Nott has toned down the stealing since Molly’s death. “Well, he wasn’t a very nice OR a very happy person.”

“No, he wasn’t.” As often happens these days, his own voice comes as a surprise. After all those silent years, sometimes he doesn’t realize he has something to say until he’s said it.

Jester, it seems, was not wrong about seeing a place they could sleep tonight, although she might have been a little mistaken as to the nature of Peony’s Petals, if the yards of pink and red velvet displayed in the front room are any indication (the sheer cost of the fabric could buy him enough paper to make a whole spell book). She’d likely been drawn in by the sheer pinkness of the sign out front.

At the counter is one of the most striking elven women Caleb has ever seen, but she has the soft blurring around her of an ill-cast disguise self. “Welcome to Peony’s Petals. How can we… accommodate you tonight?” Her eyes are raking over Fjord, and lingering on the tight pull of his shirt across the shoulders. “I’d be happy to take care of you personally.”

It is clear she is talking exclusively to Fjord, but of course it is Beau that answers. “We’ll have four rooms for the night.” Four rooms means Beau is thinking of companionship for the night, like she had while they were on the way to rescue Fjord, Jester, and Yasha. Which is fine, of course, but Caleb had thought she’d stay with Jester tonight, given everything.

“Will you be wanting any companionship?” The elven woman’s perfect Cupid-bow mouth is pressed into the bland smile of a customer service worker who wants you to go fuck yourself.

Beau hesitates for a second before slinging her arm across Jester’s shoulder for the second time tonight. “I’ve got all the companionship I need.”

The price she is quoted is exorbitant, but Nott presses coins into Beau’s hand and Beau slaps them on the counter in the same breath. She tosses the keys she gets in return - one to Caduceus, one to Nott, and one to Yasha. Caleb feels a pang of remorse shoot through him. He can’t believe he thought, even for a moment, that Beau would leave Jester tonight. She’s probably seen how twitchy Yasha has been the last few days, and probably hopes that some time on her own will be enough to stop Yasha from leaving. Beau will do almost anything to stop Yasha from leaving, as long as she doesn’t have to talk about it.

“Ja, Jester,” He says, before they all break up to go to sleep. “I have a bedtime story for you,” he’s been carrying it around for weeks, waiting for the right time to give it to her.

He pulls _Divine Favors_ out of his pocket. The cover is a half-naked man (revenant really, but Jester won’t find that out for almost two hundred pages) and the symbol of the Raven Queen. When he’d read it he thought Jester might see herself in the relationship Bree has with her goddess, and in the kindness she shows characters who everyone else think are beyond redemption.

“Caleb! Thank you!” Jester is beaming at him and she throws her arms around him, squeezing so tightly he might bruise. Because it it Jester he doesn’t complain; because it is Jester, he wraps one arm delicately around her waist.

“Um. Jester. I don’t think Caleb can breathe.” Nott offers.

“Oh! Sorry Caleb!” But she is still smiling at him, and Caleb feels a log added to the steadily burning fire of affection that lives in his chest when he looks at these people. When he looks at his friends.

He doesn’t say anything as she lets him go, or as she and Beau walk to their room. But he feels good, certain he had done something to make Jester’s night just a little better.

-

Jester comes down for breakfast the next morning and for the first time since he met her, there is nothing decorating her horns.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which actual books actually happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thanks to MeMeMe for going through and telling me when my sentences are over.

Over the course of the next week Jester’s horns remain unadorned, and she has taken to wrapping her tail tightly around her waist like a belt. She isn’t hiding the fact that she is a tiefling, exactly, but she is no longer drawing attention to her differences either. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out - he’s pretty sure that even Caduceus has linked the events - but every time someone tries to bring it up Jester just laughs and changes the subject. And, well, even if it makes him uncomfortable to watch Jester’s tail stay perfectly still, it isn’t his place to force her to talk if she doesn’t want to. So, he lets it be.

 

Fjord, Nott, and Beau are trying to get her to talk enough as is.

 

Which is why he is surprised when Jester grabs his arm at dinner, exactly one week after the Jeff incident and shouts to the group “Caleb and I are going to have sex now! Bye!” Well, maybe not the only reason he is surprised. But he does follow her dutifully, ignoring the fact that it seems like half the group is glaring at him

 

Jester is so young, for all that she grew up with the most famous courtesan on the coast, and he isn’t sure how to tell her that this is not how one goes about having sex with someone without saying something that will discourage her from making the first move again. He doesn’t want to make her think there is anything wrong with being the person to indicate interest, but he also doesn’t want to have sex - with anyone. 

 

“I don’t really want to have sex with you Caleb,” Jester whispers as they leave earshot of everyone else. “But if I said I wanted to talk to you everyone else would want to talk to me too, and I just want to talk to you.” Which is… a relief, probably. Although, he is not the person he would have chosen for a private conversation. Maybe Fjord, who is always gentler with  Jester than everyone else. Or Beau, who is abrasive, but whose willingness to draw blood in defense of her friends is reassuring. Nott is more nurturing than anyone would expect to look at her claws and sharp teeth. Yasha’s ability to stay quiet, and her measured responses make her a great listener. Caduceus’s perpetual lack of judgement and franky insane amount of tea lend themself to easy conversation. Really, Caleb is the last person he would have chosen in the group.

 

“Ah.” 

 

“It’s just that everyone else will be nice to me. But I think you will think it is nicer to tell me the truth than it is to make me feel better. Even the Traveller won’t tell me something if he thinks it will hurt my feelings!” Ah, indeed. It’s validating, to know that Jester sees him so clearly. It’s terrifying, to know that Jester sees him so clearly. It stings, a little, to know that Jester thinks he is the one of her friends who would not hesitate to hurt her.

 

Well, it’s not like he is above hurting people he loves. 

Jester does not fill the silence the way she normally does, and the quiet on the walk back to his room feels oppressive rather than welcoming. She also doesn’t meet his eyes as she sits on the bed. “Caleb,” She pauses, but Caleb doesn’t interrupt. Every minute she is not talking is time to consider things he might  be able to say, “Am I -? Is there -?” A sick curl of anxiety begins to unfurl in Caleb’s chest; Jester has never hesitated when asking questions she wants answers to, no matter how embarrassing they are.

 

Apparently giving up on the question, Jester starts rummaging in her pink bag. She pulls out  _ Divine Favors _ ; and then  _ The Crest of Winter, Cantrips of Love, Alchemical Delights, The Hunter’s Mark,  _ and  _ Guildmistress _ quickly follow. She glares at them, and then turns to look at Caleb.

 

“Do you… not like the books?” Admittedly, this does not seem likely. Other than  _ Divine Favors _ they’d talked about all of them, and while they agreed  _ The Crest of Winter _ probably made more sense if you lived in Tal’Dorei, they also thought each had its own merits. 

 

“Caleb,” she groans, as though he is being deliberately unhelpful instead of trying his best to respond to vague prompts.

 

“I am not sure what you want to talk about,” he starts slowly, looking at a spot above Jester’s right shoulder, “but I do want to help, so, you can ask me, what you want.” He sits on the bed next to her, and when that does not seem to help uncoil the knot of tension keeping her back unnaturally straight, he takes her hand. 

 

She sighs, but she does relax, just a little. 

 

“I love reading with you, and sometimes Beau, and sometimes Nott! But, it’s just, why are all the girls in these books human? Except for Lialynn, I guess.” Caleb hadn’t noticed the trend, but as he runs through the titles, she’s right. Lialynn, the elven heroine of  _ Alchemical Delights,  _ is, in fact, the only non-human woman in any of the books they’ve read together. He’s not quite sure how to respond, but luckily Jester doesn’t seem to need him to.

 

“I know that lots of people don’t like tieflings. Mama told me, and there was that man last week, and The Traveller says I shouldn’t care what stupid people think, but, even if I’m not beautiful like Beau is, don’t people think I deserve love?”

 

Easy for a god to give advice, harder for a mortal to follow, but that isn’t what Jester wants to hear. She also, probably, does not want to hear that people are stupid in general, and that’s really the only answer to this. “Hey,” he says instead, “you are beautiful - not like a human, but Mollymauk wasn’t beautiful like a human either, and your mother is one of the most beautiful women in Nicodranas.”

 

“My mama is the most beautiful woman in Nicodranas!” Jester interrupts, seemingly automatically outraged at any perceived slight. She quiets down as she continues. “But, maybe you didn’t notice, Mama doesn’t leave The Lavish Chateau, especially during the day.” He had, in fact, noticed how hard it had seemed for her to leave the doorway to wish Jester farewell. 

“That’s because it’s not always safe for her. She’s so beautiful and sometimes people are not nice about it and Mama says part of it is because she is a tiefling so they don’t think they have to be nice to her.” 

 

Jester is obviously repeating her mother’s words, and Caleb doesn’t blame Marion for not giving her more detail on what ‘not nice’ means. He has thought that Jester’s mother was irresponsible for keeping her locked in a room for most of her life. He still doesn’t think that sheltering her was the correct thing to do; Jester was always going to have to become a part of the world at some point, but he does now understand just a little better.

 

Jester seems to take his silence for judgement, because she adds, defensive, “She’s not like you or me Caleb! Mama doesn’t know how to make fire, and she doesn’t have The Traveller to keep her safe!”

 

“Ja, Jester. It is very smart of her to keep safe.” Appeased, at least a little, Jester’s back relaxes just a fraction. 

 

Jester had said she wanted him for this discussion because he will not lie to her, but still, he doesn’t want to be the one to tell her that the world is full of ugly people determined not to see beauty in others. She might be coming to that conclusion on her own, but he doesn’t want to hasten it. Of course, what he wants doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have any good left in himself to protect so if this is really want Jester wants, he’ll do it. That doesn’t mean that he won’t try something else first.

 

“I don’t think there is anyone who has met you that doesn’t think that you deserve to be loved.” He could go downstairs and retrieve five people who would be horrified by the proposition, at least one of them in a more than academic way. He might still do it, if she needs him to. 

 

“I know I’m great, Caleb!” She answers, but it must, like her defense of her mother, be reflexive, because she adds after a second, “But even though I am very awesome and good at a lot of things, it’s not fair that people have to get to know me to think nice things. When they look at me at first, I don’t know if most people are thinking kind things.”

 

“Maybe not everyone does.” He agrees, because she told him not to lie. She’s a good travelling companion though (she’s a good friend) so he offers, slowly, “When I first saw you I thought you were lovely. I thought you were kind and funny within ten minutes of knowing you. Maybe there are some people who are wrong when they think about tieflings and you - but not everyone is.”

 

He can remember, with perfect clarity, seeing her the first time. Her dress, in substantially better shape than it is now, with its carefully tied pink ribbons; her hair, shorter than it is now, curling around her silver tipped horns. She’d been smiling, and he’d thought she looked like a flower. He had even felt a little bad when Nott had been selling her fake magic.

 

Jester sighs, and she squeezes his hand. “You’re a good person, Caleb.” He swallows down his automatic denial. He knows he is going to disappoint her eventually, but he hasn’t today, and whatever harm there is in allowing her to keep her illusions of him are probably minor enough. “I guess The Traveller is right - I should try not to care about what stupid people think, but I don’t know how to stop.”

“I wish I had an answer for that, but I think it is pretty normal to want to know other people think good things about you. The next time you feel bad because someone missed the things that make you special, talk to one of us, so we can tell you everything you bring to our lives.” She is quiet, and he adds quickly, “Maybe just tell me or Caduceus. I think everyone else might try to kill whoever upset you, and being stupid should probably not be a death sentence.”

 

She laughs, delighted, but he isn’t joking. Fjord, normally one of the most level-headed in a conflict (although with a truly disturbing propensity for touching things he shouldn’t), had been prepared to slit Jeff’s throat, so who knows what any of the others would do. Jester is laughing, though, and her tail is unfurling for the first time all week. The anxiety that has been fluttering through his chest finally calms down. He might not have handled this perfectly, but at least Jester seems to be in a better mood so he didn’t mess it up too terribly either. She attempts to flop onto the bed, but instead lands awkwardly on the pile of books she pulled out of her sack.

 

“Oh! This one was so sad.” She says, once she has sat back up and pulled  _ Divine Favors _ out.

 

“I thought it was good.” Although, now that he thinks about it, as much as Bree did remind him of Jester, perhaps it was a little dark for the type of book he normally shares with her.

 

“Well. It was pretty good. But it’s so sad how Bree loves Sarros, but she knows he is going to die, and there is nothing she can do because he promised The Raven Queen and she won’t let him go, even though Bree is her favorite cleric. The Traveller would never do that to me!”

 

Caleb had liked how, even though it is clear that whatever ending comes to Bree and Sorros will not be happy, they still take the time to enjoy life and love each other. It is possible he has read a little too much into the story, and he definitely cannot bring himself to say this out loud, not after he has already had to talk about emotions once today. So, instead, he says, “If we see this book in a store again we should put one of your Traveler pamphlets in the back.”

 

“That’s a great idea Caleb! People should know that not all gods are jerks!”

 

That’s when his stomach growls and Jester blushes. “Sorry, Caleb! I took you away from dinner, let’s go get some food!”  It’s been a little over an hour, and chances are everyone else is still downstairs, drinking ale (or tea) and possibly getting into bar fights, and Caleb is not looking forward to going back down to that with the way they left. He’s also hungry though, so he lets Jester pull him back down to their group.

 

Beau raises an eyebrow at them when she sees them, and Jester sing-songs “Caleb thinks I’m lovely.”

 

On second thought, he’s been hungrier.

 

Nott, when she comes back to their room, says “Good job.” 

 

-

 

Bladegarden, in addition to a startling number of blacksmiths, has three bookstores. The whole group had come with him to the first, but Jester had been tossed out after the shopkeeper caught her rearranging the mystery section by color and everyone else had followed after her, presumably to stop her from trying to deface another temple. There were still things they needed to do in the city after all.

 

The second bookstore had some truly fascinating books of an arcane nature, and one on rituals and culture in Tal’Dorei which promised to add more context to  _ The Crest of Winter _ . They weren’t what he came in for, but they’d made 150 gold apiece on their last job, and Jester’s haversack is still full of his paper, so he bought them anyway. 

 

The third store, however, has a curtain separating a backroom from the rest of the store, and he approaches the halfling working at the front. “Can I help you?”

 

“Ja, I was wondering if you had books of a romantic nature?” Someday, after prolonged exposure to the group, maybe Caleb will stop blushing, but that day is not today, and his face feels hot. 

 

Unflappable, she responds “We have all sorts of books, what specifically are you looking for?”

 

“Do you have anything with a tiefling heroine? An orc or half-orc might work too?”

 

She pauses, staring at nothing over Caleb’s shoulder before she leads him through the curtain. The backroom is larger than he had expected, but the corner she brings him to is all the way in the back, hidden by a number of other shelves. 

 

“Not much call for it - but Trickfoot wrote a few.” She gestures at a decent selection. “He’s a prolific monster-fucker apparently.”

 

“They aren’t monsters.” Caleb snaps, uncharacteristically rude to a service person, but she’d been unprofessional first, and, honestly, the idea of anyone thinking Jester or Nott were monsters… like she knew what a monster was.

 

“Okay.” She pronounces each syllable as it’s own word and leaves him alone with the selection. 

 

In the end, he chooses two:  _ Under the Dark _ , a book about a dwarf woman who falls in love with a gnome thief who keeps stealing from her mine, and  _ Diabolical Intentions _ , which he purchases solely for the fierce grin on the face of the red tiefling woman. He pays more than the books are worth, because there is no way he is walking out of the store without them and the clerk is annoyed with him for his earlier comment. 

 

He doesn’t regret the money spent though, especially not after he locks himself in his room to read  _ Diabolical Intentions _ . Scanlan Trickfoot is a genius, and the story of Kahra, a tiefling warlock who falls in reluctant love with Zash, a human married to a cruel goddess as they attempt to save the world, is honestly riveting. There is something incredibly personal about the book, and he really feels that the heroes earned their happy ending. For one of the first times in his life, he wishes he did not read so fast, because the story feels over too soon.

 

It is possible he will send one of the others back to the store tomorrow to buy the rest of Trickfoot’s books. Fjord would be ideal, because he is charming enough to get a discount, and if not, it  will probably make the clerk uncomfortable to sell those books to him. Of course, to make that happen Fjord would have to actually look at Caleb, which he’s been avoiding since last night.

 

“Yo! Caleb! Are you coming to dinner or what?” Beau knocks on his door loudly enough that, were he still reading, he would have been pulled out of the book.

 

“Ja. I’ll be down in a minute.” He’d like to get started on  _ Under the Dark _ or maybe one one of the arcane treatises, but if he skips dinner twice in a row someone is going to talk to him about it, and he doesn’t really want another earnest conversation this week. 

 

It’s worth it though, when he comes down and Jester has fastened her bells back around her tail, and the ornaments to her horns. It is more than worth it when he quietly passes her  _ Diabolical Intentions  _ and she looks up at him with a soft surprise and appreciation. He can’t look at the smile for long, but he does drop Frumpkin in her lap, if only to prevent the hug he can tell she wants to give.

 

He can’t wait to hear what she thinks of how Kahra deals with Zash’s reluctance to involve her in his life - he has a feeling she has strong opinions about pushing people away in order to protect them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is entirely possible that I will make this a series and have them actually discuss Scanlan Trickfoot's books, because I have a lot of thoughts. 
> 
> (Zahra and Kash named their child 'Dan, after Vax, and in a fit of sentimentality Scanlan wrote Diabolical Intentions. Zahra and Kash HAAAAAAATE it. Scanlan goes "What? My goddess wants me to SPREAD KNOWLEDGE guys! She wants me to TELL STORIES! Do you want me to go against a GODDESS? I saved the world!!" 
> 
> Scanlan hasn't told anyone, but all the royalties he makes from Diabolical intentions go into a fund for Dan to have when he starts his own adventure. 
> 
> In fact, the royalties from every book he writes go into a fund for one of his friends' children. He writes a book every time someone has a baby. Vex and Percy could SLOW DOWN, geez)

**Author's Note:**

> Matt basically lets his characters be whatever, and that's great, but I was looking some things up and there is definitely some dumb fantasy racism in DnD. I drew some from that, and some from the list of most popular DnD races. 
> 
> I promise in chapter two we will actually talk about fantasy romance novels.


End file.
